


An Ackles in a Pine Tree

by ratherbehere



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, bottom!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbehere/pseuds/ratherbehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When bad weather forces Jensen to stay with Misha over Christmas instead of flying out to see his family, Misha makes it his goal to cheer Jensen up. Based on the prompt: Dean/Cas or Jensen/Misha. Christmas sex under the tree, I don't care how they get there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ackles in a Pine Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [n_nami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_nami/gifts).



> The title is from the Christmas carol The Twelve Days of Christmas. I apologize profusely for those not familiar with it, as the play on words will mean significantly less to you.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy this, namichan89. Your fics have made me quite happy, and I hope this returns that favor. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Misha begins to wonder if it was a bad idea to let Jensen stay with him when his plane got canceled the day before Christmas Eve the second he came down the stairs wearing Misha’s jeans and his AC/DC t-shirt. The jeans are snug, probably too snug, leaving nothing to the imagination. Every curve of Jensen’s sweet body is accentuated, including the generous swell of his ass, and Misha wonders if they’re tight enough to be uncomfortable. Jensen could have worn his jeans from the day before after all. Sure, they agreed the weather that had canceled Jensen’s plane had been bad enough to warrant skipping a trip to Jensen’s place, and Misha had lent him some of his things until the weather cleared, but he didn’t have to wear them. If Misha had known what it would do to his libido, he never would have offered.

Of course that leads to thoughts of Jensen coming down the stairs in his boxers and Misha has to swallow down making an embarrassing sound at the mere thought.

And that’s not counting the t-shirt, which brings about completely different feelings. The AC/DC t-shirt is one of his favorites, and is so obviously his, softened and worn out by his own body, that he wonders what he was thinking lending that particular shirt to Jensen. It’s so very much _his_ that his heart beats a little faster at seeing Jensen in it.

“Hey Mish,” Jensen greets him, padding in to the kitchen. He yawns and stretches, and just because it’s Misha’s luck, the shirt rides up and shows off a sliver of skin. It shouldn’t be so sexual, he’s seen that patch of skin a million times in wardrobe, but given the mood Misha was already in, he has to swallow hard before he can respond.

“Morning,” Misha says, his voice far too much in the gravelly Cas range to be good. Jensen doesn’t seem to notice.

“Weather clear up?”

Great, and now he has to watch Jensen’s face fall as he gives the not-so-good news by nodding towards the window. Of course, all you can see is a vague picture of white, so Jensen’s eyes move over to the backdoor and the 5 feet of snow piled up against the glass.

“Maybe they’ll have the roads clear and the planes rebooked before evening,” Misha supplies.

Jensen turns his eyes from the door to Misha and frowns. “Don’t do that, that’s not you. We both know that’s not going to happen.”

Misha huffs. “Fine then, you’re stuck here, and I have the solemn task of entertaining you.” He drums his fingers on the counter for a moment before declaring, “I’ll get the Scrabble board.”

Behind him, Jensen sighs his put upon sigh, Scrabble being a game he loves to play, but also loves to bitch about. Misha vows to make it an adequate distraction from being forced away from his family on Christmas Eve.

~

By the end of the scrabble game, Misha’s managed to get a few laughs out of Jensen, and he counts that as a win. He lost by a landslide, but was able to open the game with “fellate” and end it with “penis,” and that’s not counting all the awesome stuff he played in the middle, including a term he had to explain. How Jensen had got this far in life without knowing what rimming is, it’s beyond him. 

~

They spend at least an hour going through Misha’s room of My Little Ponies, naming the ones that didn’t have names yet and coming up with lewd and disturbing stories for each of them. Though Jensen claimed the venture would be ridiculous, he participates and comes up with some pretty insane stuff of his own. Misha can tell Jensen’s mood is a bit lighter by the time they leave the room, and might even be a little jealous that his fans don’t send him packages of ponies.

~

The Christmas songs Misha plays at the piano with Jensen by his side, singing first with Misha and then by himself when Misha decides he likes the sound of Jensen’s voice better without his own, leave Misha aroused once more. At least now he has a legitimate reason for not being able to remember the 12 Days of Christmas beyond 5 golden rings and a partridge in a pear tree. Jensen is warm and close, and the body heat sinks straight through that thin grey t-shirt, and Misha barely resists turning sideways and drawing Jensen in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that would surely become the biggest regret of his life. Still, the soft smiles Jensen shoots him and the light dancing in his eyes makes all of the uncomfortable and inappropriate arousal worth suffering through.

When Misha is positive standing up won’t embarrass him and possibly ruin their friendship, Misha manages to convince Jensen that it would be awesome if they made Rice Krispy treats shaped like a Christmas tree. It’s a spectacular mess of course by the time Misha starts welding the tree in to shape, and the blobby thing may not look great, but he knows it will taste like heaven regardless. He’s a good chef, damn it.

Jensen watches him place the final glob and declare the tree a Christmas miracle, but when Misha turns to wash marshmallow goo of his hands, Jensen catches his wrist. Misha’s eyes widen from confusion in to shock as Jensen raises the hand and slowly wraps the middle digit with his lips. Misha sucks in a breath when he feels a soft, wet tongue lap at his finger, and suddenly, all the heat he had worked so hard to push away comes rushing back. His heart is pounding and he can hear the thrum of it in his ear drums, and his knees are starting to go weak when Jensen reaches his palm. It’s single handedly one of the most intense and erotic things Misha has ever had done to him that didn’t involve less clothes. Jensen is thorough; he doesn’t just clean the fingers, he sucks and laps at the webbing in between, presses his lips and tongue into his palm, and cleans his hand so thoroughly that there is no stickiness left by the time Jensen looks up. 

He meets Misha’s eyes, and Misha knows there is no way his arousal isn’t written all over his face. His body is thrumming with it, his cheeks are warm, but he still doesn’t know what’s happening here. So he watches while Jensen slowly releases his hand, and moves to grab the other one, still covered in marshmallow. Jensen doesn’t drop his gaze this time, sliding his index finger into his mouth and sucking gently. 

“You’re fucking hands Misha,” Jensen says softly when he pulls off that finger, breaking the silence laced tension in the air. “They’re perfect,” he mumbles, continuing his ministrations. “watching them dance over those keys,” he rambles on, though Misha isn’t sure if he’s hearing clearly at this point, “driving me crazy.” Yeah, Misha might have some idea what that feels like. “How many times I’ve wanted to do this. Just-“ Jensen pauses and nips at Misha’s middle finger, adds, “-suck them down,” before swallowing the finger completely.

Misha groans, “Jen,” long and drawn out, “You’re driving me _insane_.”

“Just wait,” Jensen responds with a wink, dropping the other hand and sliding to his knees.

Misha’s eyes widen again in shock. “You don’t have to-“

But Jensen’s already got his zipper down and his dick out, and Misha can’t think any further. Those gorgeous, perfect lips wrap themselves around the head of his cock, and Misha bucks in shock before moaning long and hard. Even his wildest fantasies didn’t have Jensen Ackles giving him head in the kitchen.

Jensen doesn’t tease. He immediately, slowly slides down Misha’s shaft and back up, and Misha’s dick jerks with need and anticipation of more. As Jensen settles in and works at him with the right amount of suction, the teasing under the head, just the right amount of pressure gripping at the base, Misha knows this isn’t the first time Jensen’s done this. Which is information for future consideration, because right now Misha is lost in the absolutely amazing sensations Jensen’s lips and tongue are producing. There’s no way he’ll be able to hear Jensen’s lips described as cock sucking lips again without blushing profusely.

Jensen starts putting a small twist to the uptake, and Misha has to grip the counter to keep from falling down. His legs are trembling, and Jensen wraps his free arm around them to hold them tight.

“Fuck,” Misha groans out, unable to hold it back any longer. He can’t move much with the grip Jensen has around his legs, but his body is instinctively rocking towards the delicious heat Jensen’s mouth is providing. Then Jensen is pausing, loosening his jaw, and yep, that’s his entire fucking cock going down Jensen’s throat. It feels _incredible_.

The strangled sound he makes when he feels the press on all sides as Jensen swallows around him is almost not human. “Oh god, Jen, I’m close,” he adds, his breath hitching. 

Jensen “hmms” some sort of approval and Misha can feel the vibration up his entire spine. His nails scrabble and scratch on the counter as he tries to find purchase and he lets out a whine, coming hard down Jensen’s throat. He’s rocking with the force of it, trembling, and certainly would be collapsed on the floor if Jensen wasn’t still wrapped around his legs, holding him close.

Jensen doesn’t slide off his cock until some of the aftershock has worn off and he’s getting too sensitive for it to feel pleasurable. He stands up and tucks Misha back in, zipping him up slowly, a self-satisfied and somewhat self-conscious smile blooming on his lips.

“Do you want me-“ Misha begins to ask.

“Nah,” Jensen cuts him off. “Consider this a thank you. For taking my crappy day and making it a thousand times better. No one names ponies like you, Mish.”

There seems to be some sort of out that Jensen is offering him here, some sort of way to write this off as a one shot. Misha doesn’t it like it. Now that is brain is coming back online, he’s starting to see the events of the day in a new light, starting with Jensen wearing jeans that were far too tight when he didn’t need to and every event of the day that Jensen went along with when he really didn’t have to. 

Jensen starts to move away, his self-satisfied smirk slowly turning in to something that looks suspiciously like sadness, and Misha can’t handle that. He grabs Jensen’s bicep, none-too-accidentally where Cas gripped Dean and raised him from Hell.

“And no one can pretend that wasn’t part of something huge like you can, Jen,” Misha practically growls before closing the distance between them and finally claiming those finger licking, cock sucking lips with his own. He decides he rather likes the taste of his come in Jensen’s mouth.

~

They eventually make it to the couch where they kiss and lick and caress for what feels like hours, exploring and learning each other in a whole new way without rush. It feels like an inevitable conclusion to their already close and caring friendship, and Misha wonders why he ever thought making a move would ruin everything. As Jensen’s tongue teases behind his teeth, Misha thinks it’s the best Christmas Eve he’s ever had. He just wishes it didn’t come at the expense of Jensen getting to be with his family.

They’re at a lull in their massive make out session when Jensen looks across the room and frowns at Misha’s Christmas tree.

“You didn’t put anything on it,” he says and he truly sounds disappointed, like Misha has committed a horrible Christmas related crime. Which, he probably has, many times, but this isn’t one of them.

“There are lights,” Misha explains, “But my family’s tradition was to put on the ornaments Christmas morning.”

Jensen turns and looks at Misha, a blank expression on his face. He can tell Jensen wants to ask about his family and why he didn’t have Christmas plans, but Jensen knows enough about his strange family dynamics and how scattered they are geographically to know that asking would be venturing into a topic neither is in the mood for. Not on Christmas Eve, not with the relaxed, comfortable and tender atmosphere they just spent what feels like hours reveling in.

“We should turn the lights on,” Jensen declares instead. “It’ll be Christmas in a few hours. You have to at least turn the lights on.”

Misha gestures at the tree. “Be my guest, the plug is under there somewhere.”

Jensen grins as he climbs off the couch and crawls over to the tree. He’s on his knees as he ducks under the branches and his ass, in those tight, constricting pair of jeans, is in the air and facing Misha. It’s completely unexpected and probably completely innocent, but suddenly Jensen is making for an obscene picture in front of Misha and the fire comes roaring back into his gut like it never left. Delicious, tempting ideas fill his mind and he can’t help himself.

Jensen is still rustling under the tree when Misha crawls over to him. He comes up behind Jensen, straddling his left leg, and leans around him pressing his body close. He whispers in Jensen ear, “Would you like to know what rimming feels like, Jen?” 

Jensen shivers violently beneath him. “Fuck yes,” Jensen growls back. “Your bedroom or-“

“No,” Misha whispers in response, nipping at Jensen’s ear. “Right here. Under the tree.”

“Seriously?” Jensen asks, but he’s not objecting and Misha is already sliding around Jensen and reaching for his pants. He hears Jensen mumble a curse as he pulls Jensen’s jeans down, revealing that Jensen has been going commando in those tight fitting jeans of his _all day_. Misha shudders at the revelation and he quickly presses a kiss to Jensen’s ass cheek before maneuvering Jensen’s knees to get the jeans off all the way. He doesn’t have to encourage Jensen to spread his legs further, and the sight Jensen presents is most the beautiful and erotic thing Misha has ever seen. And that is saying something. 

Misha slides between Jensen’s legs and is grateful he’s not under the tree or he wouldn’t be able to move right. He has just enough room to kneel between Jensen’s knees and press his crotch to Jensen’s ass. He has to duck his hands under the boughs to run his hands down Jensen back, sliding the soft t-shirt up as he goes, enjoying the length of skin he reveals. Jensen wiggles a little and Misha knows it’s out of impatience, agrees that it’s about time he does this. He presses a kiss to the base of Jensen’s spine before adjusting himself behind Jensen and spreading his cheeks.

Jensen is trembling under him, and Misha’s heart does a funny jump at that. He knows how much Jensen is trusting him here. He’s extremely exposed and vulnerable, and Misha’s sure he’s trembling with arousal and anticipation that has been intensified by the exposure, but Misha has to be sure.

“Jen?” he asks, moving his hands to stroke Jensen’s thighs, “You sure about this?”

“Fuck, Misha,” Jensen punches out, and yeah, he’s wound tighter than a coil. “If you stop right now, I swear to God I will melt all of your My Little Ponies.”

Misha gives Jensen’s cheek a harsh smack, eliciting a cry. “No need to make such vicious threats.”

“Then get on with it already.” Jensen growls back, but Misha is already spreading his cheeks again, settling in, and licking his tongue around the tight little bud of flesh and muscle. Jensen yelps and jerks at the ministration. “Fuck!”

Misha grins and laps around the puckered skin and muscle with the intent of making Jensen cry out as much as possible. He swirls his tongue around a few more times before licking at it gently, lapping at the tightness he finds there. Jensen has to relax before he can do much more, as he’s clenched tight with the futile effort to hold on to reality, and Misha can’t press his tongue in. It isn’t long, however, till the tender, languid presses of his tongue coaxes Jensen in to relaxing and slowly unclenching until Misha is able to press the tip of his tongue inside. Jensen groans at the intrusion and immediately relaxes further, inviting Misha to explore deeper. 

Figuring that was as much of a green light he was ever going to get without risking further threats to plastic ponies, Misha slides one hand away from holding Jensen open to tease a finger at the flexing opening. 

“Yes,” Jensen instantly tells him breathlessly, “Yes, Mish, please.”

He slides his finger in the rest of the way, and Jensen gasps. He shifts backwards, encouraging Misha’s finger deeper, and Misha’s happy to comply. He sets a slow pace with his finger before he slides his tongue back in, curling it around his finger and in to Jensen’s body. 

Misha continues to lick and finger, and he can feel Jensen both opening up and tensing further by every press. He slides in another finger without resistance, and after a few presses of both digits and tongue lapping around, he hears Jensen groan again.

“Touch me, please,” Jensen begs.

“Can you hold yourself open for me?” Misha responds. He’s eager to touch Jensen’s cock, but in order to continue his efforts on the back end without a problem, he needs Jensen to hold himself open. Or perhaps he just _really _likes the thought, it’s hard to tell.__

__Jensen shifts around under the tree until his arms are curling backwards, holding his cheeks open. It gives Misha a free hand sneak between Jensen’s legs and wrap around his smooth, hard cock. Jensen moans long and low as Misha begins to stroke him for the first time, and Misha thinks it must be pretty similar to how overwhelmed he was back in the kitchen. But fisting Jensen’s cock was not the sole point of this, so he gently resumes thrusting his fingers into Jensen body, and bends to resume wetting every inch of Jensen hole, inside and out. The position is a little awkward, but Misha is very flexible and that certainly has its benefits at times._ _

__“Fuck me, Mish,” Jensen says softly after rocking gently with Misha’s ministrations for a while. He says it so softly that Misha wonders if he dreamed it up. “Want more-“ his breath hitches, he’s so far gone, so blissed out and on edge, “want you.”_ _

__Misha groans around his fingers, his approval at that idea. Jensen’s been ready for a third finger for ages, but he wasn’t sure it was wanted until now. He quickly slides it in and picks up the pace, making sure Jensen is stretched and wet before he gently pulls out. He has to let go of Jensen’s cock to work his pants open and get his own cock out, arranging himself behind Jensen. He spits one more time into his palm and uses that along with his pre-come to slick himself up, though Jensen is so wet right now, he doubts it was strictly necessary. He presses the head of his cock to Jensen’s hole._ _

__“Jen?” he asks, just to be sure._ _

__“Ponies,” Jensen snarls, trying to spread his cheeks further. “I swear.”_ _

__Misha grins as he pushes in slowly to Jensen’s body._ _

__If his wildest dreams didn’t include a blow job in the kitchen, they certainly didn’t include fucking under the Christmas tree. But here he is, quickly settled balls deep into Jensen, and inches away from tipping over and into a great blue spruce pine tree, and suddenly he feels like he can’t breathe. It’s too much, and his brain is rapidly short circuiting._ _

__“Move, Misha,” Jensen reminds him. “For god’s sakes, move.”_ _

__It helps snap him from his momentary insanity, because moving sounds like the best idea of the day. He curls his hands around Jensen’s hips, gripping tight, before pulling his own back and sliding into that tight heat once more. Jensen rocks with it and groans beneath him, wiggling backwards to get more friction. Misha thinks he hears a “fuck yes” mumbled into the carpet and Jensen seems more than onboard with kicking things into higher gear. He pulls back and thrusts into Jensen, setting a pace that is fast and thrilling._ _

__Jensen has to let go from holding himself open to find better purchase on the ground, and Misha’s not sure if that’s an accomplishment on his part or not. The sight of Jensen holding himself open was enough to make Misha’s top 5 hottest images of all time, but the fact that he’s being fucked hard enough that he needed to brace himself sends a delicious spike of heat through him that makes up for the lost visual._ _

__It lacks the finesse and ease of their kisses from earlier, but it fills a different kind of need. This is about want, raw desires that have had far too much time to simmer, finally being fulfilled. So it’s totally by accident (or grand design) that Misha is able to rub against Jensen’s prostate at all, wringing breathy little moans of pleasure out of the gorgeous man beneath him. Misha swears that the next time they do this, he will take the time to wring a lot more of those sounds out of him. So many of them that Jensen will be shaking and begging for Misha to finally let him come. But now is not the time for a slow burn. Now is a time for fucking out the fire they both so desperately need quenched._ _

__Misha’s AC/DC t-shirt is still slid up Jensen’s back and through the pine needs and branches, Misha still has a great view of the beauty that is Jensen Ackles’ shuddering body. He slides a hand from Jensen’s hips down his back and marvels that he’s finally here, at this wonderful precipice with him, and there are few people on Earth Misha cares about as much as the man beneath him. It’s almost too much to believe, that he can have this._ _

__“You’re incredible,” Misha says sincerely, resuming his grip on Jensen’s hips just a little bit harder, thrusting just a little bit sharper._ _

__Jensen groans and shifts, reaching to fist his cock. Jensen’s riding the edge, has been for a while, and just needed a few pumps to set him over. He cries out Misha’s name as his body bows beneath him with the force of his orgasm and it’s so hot it sends Misha straight to the edge. Contrary to what popular romance stories would have you believe, it’s not every day Misha hears his name come off his lover’s lips as he comes. It means too much._ _

__The need to reach his own release is quickly overwhelming his senses and Misha thrusts into Jensen so hard that they have scooted forward and there is now a faint sting of pine needles poking at him. He barely even notices them. For the first time, he understands why some call coming a completion. As pleasure crests around him and through him, he feels the world completing itself, knitting itself together in a pattern it should have always had, a part of him that should have always been there finally setting in place. He comes with a cry, burying himself as deep as possible in Jensen’s body, never wanting to leave._ _

__Of course, he has to eventually and Misha pulls out shakily, collapsing on his back, spread out on the floor, trying to level his breathing out. Jensen doesn’t move for a long minute and Misha knows the feeling. When Jensen collapses on his back next to Misha, he snakes a hand out to squeeze Misha’s. He gets it. That’s all the energy he has left too._ _

__“I think I have pine needles permanently embedded in my arms and rug burn on my forehead,” Jensen eventually says. Misha’s about to say something witty to that when Jensen tags on, “Merry Christmas,” and Misha can only snort. It’s not the kind of Christmas story you tell the grandkids. Not even Misha’s family would tell _this_ one._ _

__He glances out the window and sees that the snow has started back up. Jensen’s not making it to his family at all before Christmas day is out, and despite how wonderful he feels right now, despite not complaining one bit that Jensen will have to stay with him a little longer, he feels for the man next to him._ _

__“It’s snowing again,” Misha tells him softly. “I’m sorry Jen.”_ _

__There’s a delayed reaction as Jensen turns to look out the window and process what that means._ _

__“Don’t be,” Jensen finally responds, squeezing Misha’s hand again. “Hey, I can help you put the ornaments on the tree tomorrow morning.”_ _

__The fact that Jensen isn’t that upset, that he’s adopting Misha’s family’s traditions, that he may even be looking forward to it, makes Misha’s heart swell. It’s the best present he’s ever received._ _

__An Ackles in a pine tree._ _


End file.
